The Muggles from Kansas
by MelodyPond123
Summary: Sam and Dean are staking out strange happenings in a small town in the English countryside when they unexpectedly encounter the Wizarding world, where things work quite differently than they are used to. HP is AU sometime after the events of Deathly Hallows.
1. Chapter 1

Sam sighed, looking back over his shoulder at the large rocks that littered the hillside before the farm fields began. They were in England, where Cas had sent them, staking out the edge of town since word was something strange had been going on there during the night.

"Sammy? Do you have the silver bullets?" Dean's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Yeah, Dean, why—"

Dean sent a hard elbow to his ribs, making him cringe as he gazed from between the bushes toward what Dean was looking at.

"Oh—" A sight unlike any other he'd before seen met his eyes, a large, furry gray form, something between humanoid and canid had appeared from thin air on the hillside in front of them.

"Oh's right. We've got ourselves a werewolf." Dean grinned.

"Yeah, but, where'd it come from?!" Sam exclaimed.

"Hell if I know! What are you waiting for, are you gonna insist on going up and shaking its paw and asking it 'Hi wolfie, how do you do," before you admit it's a friggin' monster and gank it?"

"I dunno, though. Something about it seems a little off," Sam said cautiously. "I mean, since when do they just appear like that?"

"Dude, you _do _remember what happened last time you started screwing around with werewolves, right?"

"You don't have to bring it up," Sam snapped angrily, covering his pocket that had the bullets in it. "But this isn't then. And something about this doesn't feel right. I'm not willing to do this until we know for sure what's up."

"Still, we need to be ready in case something happens," Dean argued. "What if it jumps on somebody ready to rip their heart out, huh? Waiting to give me the damn bullet til then will be too late."

"Fine," Sam muttered, grudgingly handing over a handful of bullets to Dean, who loaded the gun with them.

"There. Now if you really insis—"

Sam heard a _pop!_ and felt a whoosh of air. Then there was a dull thud, and the sound of a crack, which made him whip around simultaneously, reflexively brandishing the angel blade he carried at his hip.

"Oh, sh—" He barely had time to grunt before another, far larger werewolf leapt off of Dean and came crashing down on him.

Its front paws contacted his chest, sending him sprawling before he could recoil to get a decent swing in . He managed to slice at the creature's shoulder with his blade before it ripped it from his hands with its jaws, slinging it away.

"Oh, my God," he breathed as the creature stood, over him, its massive front paws pinning him down. "Oh, my god….Dean! De—" he rasped, fear wracking his mind as he tried futilely to wrestle against the creature, but it's weight pressed so hard on his chest, even if Dean was alive or conscious, he realized, his voice was so stunted it was unlikely he'd hear it.

"Remus!" A sharp female voice cut in. "Merlin, what happened?!" A woman in a long dark robe came running, a cloud of curly brown hair whipping around her in the wind as she came to a stop standing over Sam and the beast.

The werewolf, still standing on Sam's chest, looked up at her for an instant, growling in a low voice, a sound that made his skin crawl perhaps even more than the fact that it was pinning him to the ground, making him want more than anything to stab it or get away.

Yet, the woman tilted her head, as if listening to it as the wolf finished his guttural utterance, which began with a growl, segued into a whimper, and finished with another sharp growl. "No, I see. Please, let me."

"Stupefy!" She proclaimed as she whipped out a thin stick, which for a moment had Sam wondering what she was doing, at least in the split second before the red flash appeared, and everything went numb.

The next thing Sam was aware of, it seemed as if his head was full of flies, buzzing, like his sinuses were thick with them. He heard a groan, one he realized slowly, was his own, as he came back to his senses.

A chair, he was sitting in a chair, he realized, feeling the warm wood beneath his legs. His head rather hurt, and as his eyes opened, he saw the same woman from before standing in front of him.

"If this is merely a strange misunderstanding, as I hope, then I'd like to go ahead and apologize for the invasion. But if the situation is as it appears, then I'm afraid such extreme measures were justified, given the alarming way you threatened my friends," the woman spoke distinctly, pointing the stick….a wand?...at Sam's throat.

"Now, understand," she continued, "I won't hesitate to stun you again if I have to, but I know it's not the most pleasant experience, so for your own comfort, if nothing else, you shouldn't do anything rash. I won't restrain you if you cooperate."

Sam nodded, looking down to realize he indeed wasn't bound to the chair he sat in.

"Yeah, no," he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to get rid of the strange itchy feeling the spell had left. "I don't, I won't uh, do anything. You don't have to do that again. I don't have any weapons, anyways," he shrugged, "Since it looks like you and your uh, werewolf werewolf friends took care of that."

"You're American," the woman frowned. "Well, that might at least explain your proclivity towards firearms," she sighed, glancing at the rifle she must have gotten from Dean, which was leaning against the wall next to the fireplace, "But I have plenty of other questions I'd like to have answers to."

"And, by the way, don't bother with that. It's not loaded anymore," she added quickly, noticing Sam's gaze following hers.

"So do I, have questions, I mean," Sam returned. "Like, first of all, who are you, and what sort of magic are you practicing, teaming up with a werewolf?"

"I'm Hermione," she frowned. "And you are?"

"Sam. And that's my brother, Dean," he nodded to his brother, who was still unconscious, laid on the couch.

"Yes, and you asked me about magic?" Hermione pressed, frowning.

"Yeah, you're not the first witch we've run into. But what's with that wand? I've never seen that. I mean I've seen a staff, but, really? Isn't that kind of…well, trite?" Sam managed a weak laugh.

"Trite? Oh, the ideas stories put in peoples' heads," she muttered, shaking her head. "You're correct, I'm a witch. But all wizards I've met use wands. It's the most precise manner of channeling magic."

"Yeah, uh, OK…" Sam trailed off. "You said wizards. What, are you in a coven?"

"A coven? No, no." She shook her head. "But, how do you know about us, the Wizarding community?"

"Wizarding community? We don't have anything like that where we're from," Sam said. "There's individual covens, but I don't think there's any larger association—"

"That's truly odd," Hermione mused. "The Americans have their own forms of Ministry and regulatory bodies. For a Muggle who knows of our society, you're quite misinformed. Also, I find it doubtful they'd be so careless as to leave a Muggle wandering about with such knowledge, unless, of course, are you related to wizard of any sort?"

"Wizard? No. Closest we have to anything of the sort in our family was our grandfather. He was a Man of Letters. We're all hunters."

"A Man of Letters? I haven't heard of that before."

"They documented the supernatural," Sam explained. "At least, until demons killed them all off. My brother and I are all that's left of them, I guess."

"But then, you said you were hunters. Do I even want to know what it is you presume to hunt?"

"Monsters, demons, pretty much anything that gets out of control and kills people," Sam said.

"And, I suppose," she said, her face growing dark as she spoke, "That is what you assumed my friends were. Monsters, to be killed."

"Well, in fairness, we've seen our fair share of werewolves, and very few of them are friendly. Most of them will sooner rip your heart out than look at you." Sam said, shaking his head. "Although, not all. We were watching, seeing what was going on when your werewolf friend jumped on us."

"Then why did you have a rifle loaded with silver bullets?" Hermione asked grimly producing a handful of the bullets from the pocket of her robes.

"Please, try to understand," Sam said cautiously, feeling terribly aware of the thin wand she held in the other hand, "In our line of work, it pays to be prepared."

A scrutinizing silence met his statement.

"We weren't going to use it if we didn't have to," he added quickly, trying to suppress the fear he felt so it didn't show in his face.

"Use what?" Dean muttered from where he lay on the couch, stirring quietly.

"Oh, I see your brother's waking up," Hermione nodded toward Dean.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, turning to look at him as far as he could in his seat, "Just relax, OK? I think she just wants to talk."

"Talk?!" Dean sputtered. "That friggin' thing jumped on me and knocked me out. First chance I get, I'm gonna-"

Hermione cleared her throat vociferously, frowning sharply at him. "That 'thing' was my friend, Remus. In case you didn't think of it yourself, if Remus was really out for blood, he'd have killed you. Instead, however, he just knocked you unconscious and waited for me to come manage things with magic since he's unable to perform controlled magic while transformed."

"Yeah, well, this ain't no _picnic in Poughkeepsie_ for us, either," Dean retorted, sitting up despite the obvious effort in his face.

Sam raised his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly at Dean, hoping he got the idea. The trouble with code words, he thought silently. Don't do it, Dean... "Just chill for a minute," Sam pressed as it became obvious he wasn't making any moves to relax, Dean struggling to sit up straighter, the muscles in his face tense portending the attempt he was about to make.

"Yeah, well, chill ain't in my vocabulary right now," he muttered, shooting Sam a look that said, 'you better be with me.'

"No," Sam said again, rolling his eyes. "Just...shut up and-"

With that, Dean jumped from the couch, attempting to dive for the rifle where it was propped against the fireplace.


	2. Chapter 2

So I admit, I haven't done much with the HP universe in quite some time. Any pointers on details and such are welcomed, although I decided to take the wiggle room AU gives and have some fun with it.

* * *

But instead of getting to it, he fell to his knees on the floor, gasping.

"Holy crap," he muttered, breathless.

"Your brother told you not to get up, didn't he?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes in annoyance as she moved towards Dean.

"Hands off, bitch!" Dean snapped as she reached for him.

"I really don't appreciate that," Hermione snapped. "Like I told your brother a minute ago, it's useless to you without ammunition. You're only digging yourselves deeper now. Threatening to kill Teddy could have easily landed you dead. Remus has great self-restraint, in not killing you for that. He waited for me to come. He didn't have to do that, at all. You got off lucky, your leg is possibly broken. If you will let me, I'll help you back to your seat. I can restrain you with just a word if need be. Or do far more if I had to, although I really hope it doesn't come to that."

"Whatever," Dean muttered, scowling as he allowed her to grab his shoulders, helping him stand on his good leg. A few awkward hopping steps later, Hermione let go from where she'd been supporting him beneath the shoulders from behind so he could sit back on the couch. As she stepped back, he glared up at her.

"See now? I am not trying to hurt you, although it doesn't seem the same could be said for you." Hermione said, giving Dean a reproachful look.

"Whatever," Dean huffed again, frowning angrily, looking between Hermione, Sam, and the rifle he'd failed so miserably to retrieve.

"Whatever?" Sam scoffed. "Dude, you do realize she's being pretty freaking nice for someone holding us captive, yeah?"

"That may be how you see it, but this is more a citizen's arrest until we have all that occurred earlier sorted." Hermione corrected, her tone civil.

"Yeah, no, I understand," Sam nodded. "Point is, Dean, don't do anything to piss her off, please. She's a pretty powerful witch, and well, you're in no shape to fight—"

He broke off as Hermione gave him an exasperated look.

"Not that we should try that anyways. It's kind of nice not having to fight for once." Sam added quickly, his tone placating.

"Yeah, because killing and torturing when you have to is such a bad thing, when the shit out there we're stopping is hellbent on mauling every freaking living thing in sight and, oh, yeah, starting the damn apocalypse!" Dean exclaimed.

The look of disgust and horror that crossed Hermione's face made Sam squirm.

"You're a twisted individual," she murmured in a measured tone, frowning at Dean.

"What can I say? The world's full of nasty shit that needs killing. Somebody's got to do that job. Now it ain't pretty, but that's us." Dean returned with a tone of spiteful swagger, smirking slightly as her expression twisted with revulsion.

"Dean! That's not helping," Sam reproached, sending his brother a hard look.

"What? It's true—"

"True or not, the more you reveal about yourselves, the less comfortable I am with the idea of you walking free." Hermione cut in, shaking her head. "If you'll excuse me, I have a call to make."

"A call? What, you're excusing yourself because you're so sure we're gonna be all polite like your usual British prisoners and have tea or some shit while your back's turned?" Dean quipped.

"No, actually, I'm not leaving the room. Still, I have half a mind to of set charms to prevent you from leaving the settee again. Not just for my own convenience, but for your safety, for which you seem to have very little regard." Hermione replied curtly.

"Go ahead, witchy-bitch," Dean grinned.

"Oh, God," Sam muttered, shaking his head. "Just let her make her call or…whatever it is witches do."

"Really? Why the hell would we do that? What makes you trust her, huh? Did you get knocked in the head like I did when that _thing_ jumped on me? She could up and kill us soon as she wanted to—" Dean blurted, glaring incredulously at Sam.

"I can assure you," Hermione murmured, shaking her head, "I have no interest in causing you any further harm. Your injuries from earlier are unfortunate, but easily reparable if you'd let me help."

"Like hell you're gonna touch me again," Dean hissed, glaring at her.

"Just listen to her," Sam added, "And don't try anything again. Please."

"Fine," Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Thank you," Hermione replied, with a hint of sarcasm as she turned to a small pot on the mantle above the fireplace. From it, she took a pinch of powder, which she threw into the low flames that flickered in the fireplace.

They grew suddenly, flaring to the height of the top of the fireplace, turning brilliant green. Dean and Sam watched, amazed, as a voice came from the fireplace, saying, "Fireplace Network Authority, please state the intended recipient of your call."

Hermione spoke into the fireplace, "Yes, the Potter home, please."

"What the-" Dean muttered, looking at Sam, who shrugged exaggeratedly to convey his own loss for an explanation.

"One moment," the voice returned, the flames dying back a bit to an ethereal purple as strains of rock music filtered out from the crackling fire.

"What?" Sam laughed. "Are you on hold?"

"Yes. Since my father-in-law came to be in charge of Department of Management of Communications and Wizarding Technology at the Ministry, he's taken great delight experimenting with changing our systems to mirror the efficiency, and in cases where that's wanting, the experience of the Muggle systems. It's also supposed to help ease tensions by highlighting the similarities of the Muggle way of life and ours, although I'm not sure how well that will work."

"Well, least it's not elevator music," Dean cracked.

"No, they feature various Wizarding artists each day depending up on the hour. It promotes cultural growth and supports fledgling artists and whatnot. This particular song is by Wizardica."

"Wizardica? What, you have metal too?" Dean laughed.

"Yes-" Hermione returned, holding up her hand suddenly as if to pause the conversation when a voice from the other end came up.

"Hello? Hermione?" A male voice asked.

"Oh, Harry, good, you're there," Hermione sighed. "There's Muggles from the States here-" Hermione said gazing into the flames, sighing crossly as Dean cut her off.

"The States? Really?" Dean snarked. "If you're gonna be all snobbish, at least get it right. It's Kansas, dude."

"Fine, Muggles from Kansas, if you so insist," she corrected herself, giving Dean a look. "But as I was saying, we have a bit of a problem. They were going to kill Remus and Teddy."

"What? Is everyone OK?!"

"Yes, Remus stopped them in time. However, I wouldn't mind if you'd come over and try to help straighten things out. Yes, we're at our place. Ron and the kids are gone for the weekend, and well, I'd greatly appreciate the help, if you could make sure they don't do anything while I try to go talk to Remus and Teddy. They're understandably quite shaken up by this."

"Of course. I'll be over in a moment," Harry returned.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione murmured, sighing as the fireplace call ended, the flames dying back to their normal orange.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it always takes me so long to get updates up. I have a few too many stories going at once-13 to be precise, so that's why I update so haphazardly. Also I got some input from a friend who's well versed in the HP universe so I went back and reworked some of Hermione's dialogue in the first two chapters to more accurately reflect her canon character. As always, any input on that sort of thing is quite welcome.

* * *

"So, who were you calling?" Sam asked casually.

"An old friend," Hermione returned, her tone even.

"What the hell's this?" Dean spoke up, directing his attention to the fireplace, where large green flames were growing.

"Ah, yes, that would be Harry," Hermione nodded.

As she spoke, the flames died back suddenly, the opening to the fireplace growing in size to that of a door as a figure with long dark dress robes appeared in it.

A man stepped out, wiping soot from his glasses as he greeted Hermione. "Thank you for calling me. I just got home from the event. I hope we can get this sorted."

"As do I," Hermione returned, hugging her friend.

"Pshh, wouldn't count on that," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes.

"So, I take these are the people who threatened Remus and Teddy," Harry asked, looking at Sam and Dean across the room.

"Yeah, I guess that's us," Sam replied, his tone placating, earning a nod from Harry.

"Yes, I see. Who are they exactly?"

"Sam." "Dean." The brothers each answered.

"OK, so what happened?" Harry asked.

"Well you heard my version of events," Hermione mused. "Perhaps you'd like to hear theirs. And I should really go check on Remus and Teddy. I'll be back soon."

"Yeah, if that's not asking too much," Dean snarked.

"No, I don't think it is. I'd like to understand your motivations for attacking our friends. Go on, explain yourselves," Harry replied, staring at the Winchesters as Hermione alighted out the door.

"Well, for starters, a friend of ours heard about some weird attacks over here. So he sent us along to check it out," Dean nodded.

"To check it out? Do you mean that this is something you do _regularly_?" Harry asked, expression skeptical.

"Well, yeah," Dean scoffed. "We're hunters. Dealing with freaks and monsters is kind of in the job description for us."

Harry's expression shifted uncomfortably at the words, but he allowed Dean to finish speaking.

" Anyways, Cas zapped us off over here, and we started staking out around the town we landed in. Except there wasn't crap going on. Totally boring little town, I mean, the whiskey at the pub's not bad, but, yknow, not much else to do." He chuckled slightly at his own joke, which earned an eye-roll from Sam.

"Yeah so after that, we started scouting around for sightings, attacks, incidents, anything that might be a real case." Sam continued the story.

"Then we heard about this place," Dean smirked. "Sightings of a large furry wolf-man creature running around on the full moon, so we were like, hell, yeah, we're coming to check it out."

"That's all very well," Harry cut in, crossing his arms as he regarded the brothers. "But, Merlin, why were you trying to kill them?! They haven't hurt anyone."

"We weren't," Sam sighed. "We were just staking out the edge of town where there had been sightings."

"But I take that gun is yours," Harry replied, his tone troubled, as he gazed at the rifle propped against the fireplace.

"Well, yeah!" Dean exclaimed. "Try looking at it from our angle, if it wouldn't kill you. We were going to check out reports of a monster. Monsters in our experience_, love_ killing people. Werewolves rip your heart right out of your chest soon as look at you. You'd have to be friggin' suicidal to go into that unarmed. So yeah, sue me._ We_ go in prepared."

"I'm sorry, did you just imply werewolves routinely kill people by mauling them and removing their hearts?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised in alarm so that a jagged scar on his forehead showed behind his bangs.

"Yeah," Dean scoffed. "Yeah, I did. Because they do. And there's no other way to stop them without getting in range but a silver bullet."

Sam shifted uncomfortably at this. "He's right," he spoke up quietly. "I met one once, we thought she was the victim. Except…she wasn't. She didn't realize it was her turning until it was almost too late. When she realized what she was, she begged me…"

"To, do what, exactly?" Harry inquired, his scrutinizing gaze trained on Sam as he pulled a wand from the pocket of his robe.

"To kill her," Sam murmured slowly, his voice low as he stared down at his hands.

"And you did what she asked?" Harry sighed, the hint of exasperation that bled into his voice spelling the displeasure at what he was hearing, the fervent desire to have his suspicions go unconfirmed.

"Yes…" Sam sighed, cringing as the memories came pouring back. "Please believe me," he blurted, "I didn't want to, but she knew what she would keep doing, keep killing people, and….there's just no other way."

"See? Much as you seem to want to call us indiscriminate killing machines, you're wrong. He's still messed up about that, and it's been what, six years now?" Dean spouted. "So if you'd quit trying to call bullshit on what we know damn well are the facts—"

"Actually," Harry interrupted, his expression grim, "I'm afraid you're gravely mistaken."

"What the hell are you trying to say—" Dean cut in.

"Let him finish," Sam admonished, shaking his head.

"There's a potion called wolfsbane," Harry explained, eyeing Dean cautiously. "When a lycanthrope takes it before the full moon, it allows them to remain aware and in full control when they transform. Your most frightening error tonight was in assuming that my friends posed a danger. But the fact is, they mean no one any harm at all. It's true, they are lycanthropes, but they take great pains to maintain full control of themselves. They're good people. And you could've really hurt them."

"But—how?" Sam blurted. "We have been over the lore again and again. There is nothing like this at all for normal werewolves. Unless they're within a few generations of the Alpha, a pureblood, especially once they taste human blood, they lose all control when they turn. And there's nothing that can be done about it—"

"I don't know where you're getting these ideas," Harry said, shaking his head. "But you're incorrect. I don't even know what you mean by 'purebloods,' either, not with werewolves. It's almost like we're talking about different creatures."

"Wait, wait," Sam exclaimed, looking at Dean. "What if we are? What if Cas screwed up?"

"What? You think he sent us to the wrong place?" Dean asked, realization crossing his face.

"Yeah, what if he did? Because you know, this is not how werewolves work, _at all_." Sam said, now turning to Harry. "And no offense to you, but we know what we're talking about. We've been doing this all our lives. And I did not kill Madison without a _damn _good reason."

.

"Well," Harry muttered. "I'd certainly like to think you didn't kill anyone without necessity. Werewolf or otherwise. And I'm not saying you did. But I don't quite follow your train of thought. What do you mean by 'wrong place?' And who exactly is Cas? Is he the friend you said 'zapped' you here?"

"Yeah, so Cas. He's an angel," Dean explained. His seriousness melted away as he watched Harry's face twist with befuddlement, which garnered a laugh from Dean.

"Really, dude, you're a wizard and you haven't heard of angels?" He asked, his tone incredulous.

"No, I've heard of angels," Harry replied, brow furrowed with puzzlement. "In the Bible, and in the Christmas story like everyone else… But you're saying he's a real live angel?"

"Yep." Dean grunted, sharing a look with Sam, who chuckled too despite himself.

"So, uh, angels, right? They're kind of like what's in the Bible, although according to Cas, it gets as much wrong as it does right too. Anyways, we've been kind of…occupied the past several years fighting crazy plans they keep hatching," Sam explained.

"Fighting what, angels?" Harry asked, staring quizzically at Sam. "I thought they were forces for good, for Heaven."

"Yeah, sure, forces for Heaven, maybe," Dean scoffed. "But the Heaven we know would just as soon take a big shit on the planet and kick us humans right off of it. End of times and all that. And you can take our word for that. We were there when it went down. And_ we_ had to stop them."

Sam remained silent, frowning at the fireplace as Dean explained in overly general terms what had gone on. And the vagueness was a good thing, he decided.

"Uh, sorry, I had no idea," Harry mumbled. "But then…if it was the end of times, wouldn't we have heard of that here in the UK?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Dean nodded. "I mean, even in America most people had no idea what was going on. But that would only count if your UK is the same as our UK. See, angels, they've sent us to another universe before. And if Sam's right, this might be what this is."

"So you believe you're in the wrong universe," Harry nodded.

"Yeah."

"Is there any way you could confirm it, though?"

"Actually, yeah," Dean muttered.

"Hey, Cas! Come on down here, we've got a question for you and we're in a real good fix, so maybe if you could convince these people, that'd be nice." He called skywards.

All three men stared at the ceiling for a few long moments before Harry broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, but is he supposed to be coming?"

"In theory," Dean sighed. "But if we're in the wrong universe, he's not gonna show. So either he's busy, or we're in the wrong friggin universe."

"I vote the second," Sam suggested, "I mean he knows we're here, he sent us. He should be on call to bring us back."

"Agreed," Dean said. "Great job Cas. Great friggin job…"

Just then the door opened, Hermione coming in, followed by two fully transformed werewolves.


	4. Chapter 4

More editing with a friend beta-ing has been going on, and I've been reading some HP fics to get a better feel for the canon stuff I don't remember from reading the actual books. And I reworked a lot of dialogue (again, yes) and some plot points throughout so the previous segments have been edited too. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Oh, holy shit," Dean exclaimed, scrambling back as far as he could on the couch. Sam stood from the chair he'd been occupying, earning a look from Harry, who pointed his wand at him, prompting him to raise his hands in a 'look I'm unarmed' gesture.

"I just want to go sit with him, if that's OK," Sam murmured, earning a wordless glare from Dean.

"Alright," Harry assented, looking at Hermione who nodded her approval as well.

Sam took a seat beside Dean, who squeezed himself against the arm at the far end of the couch as the werewolves approached.

"This is Remus," Hermione pronounced, motioning to the larger of the wolves, "And this is Teddy. Remus, in particular would like to know why you were attacking them."

"Let's see…oh, yeah. Because they're monsters," Dean deadpanned.

This earned a whimper from Teddy, and a hard look from Remus.

"Maybe it would be better if you went to watch telly in the other room," Hermione suggested, walking with the smaller werewolf down the hallway that lead from the sitting area they were in.

"Really? She wants it to watch TV?" Dean muttered, provoking a low growl from the large werewolf, who eyed him disdainfully.

"Sorry Remus, could you say that again? I'm not quite as good at understanding you as Hermione, I'm afraid," Harry said.

The werewolf repeated his utterance, Harry nodding.

"Remus says not to talk about his son like that," Harry spoke up.

Dean scoffed. "Oh, so you're all bleeding hearts sensitive about political correctness with monsters or some crap. Coz that's just great…"

Remus groaned, rolling his eyes as he looked at Harry again, making small, irritable sounds.

"His….son?" Sam managed.

"Yes, he's my son," Harry translated, leaning close to Remus, raising a hand as if to silence the brothers while he listened. "His name is Teddy, and I would greatly appreciate it if you'd give us a chance. I'll be transforming back to my human form soon, and I will definitely have a discussion with you then if you refuse to take me seriously now. What you did tonight could have cost my son his life if I hadn't stopped you sooner."

"Sorry," Sam murmured. "We really didn't know you were, yknow, in control."

"Yeah because every monster we've ever met is just the picture of self-restraint," Dean jibed.

"Yeah," Sam shook his head. "This definitely isn't how it normally goes."

The conversation paused as they waited for Remus to respond via Harry.

"There's an awful lot you should know, but I'm about to turn back now," Harry said for him, translating the growls, whimpers and low barks. "So it will wait five minutes. Because you are not going anywhere."

"Oh, great," Dean groaned, muttering in a low voice to Sam, "The Wizards of Oz and their friends the werewolves think they're gonna keep us here."

"I dunno," Sam replied, keeping his tone hopeful. "Maybe we can convince them to let us go."

Harry meanwhile was speaking to Remus, "Do you want to—" He broke off as Remus rejoined his comment with a snuffle and a nod.

"Alright then," Harry replied, "I'll get Hermione to watch them while I help get you situated."

"Hermione?" He called, not leaving the area where the two brothers sat.

"Yes?" She replied, making her way from the room door she'd left back to the sitting room.

"Remus is about to change back. He wants to be with Teddy. He also wants to know, do you have their clothes?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione nodded, motioning to Remus, "The door's open. And I'll bring your clothes—" the brothers stared as she whipped out her wand, performing an enlargement spell on the tiny handful of clothing she removed from her robe pocket, which grew to become a heap of clothing and shoes, which nearly spilled from her arms as she carried it down the hall, Remus following her.

"In case you're wondering," Harry said to the brothers, "They will be back momentarily."

"Yeah, no, we know how fanging out works," Dean said, giving Harry a withering look. "It's not like we haven't seen it before."

"Maybe so, but you don't know much about how werewolves here work, either," Harry rejoined. "And really, you can get over the pretenses of fighting us. You aren't going anywhere with your leg like that, and even if it wasn't, you don't have any weapons. And we have magic. But that's also beside the point," Harry shook his head as Dean looked like he was about to protest, "No, I'm not done. I don't want to fight you. Remus is understandably quite upset, but he won't try to hurt you either. I've known him most of my life, and my parents knew him before that. Please don't do anything to further provoke him. He's been through more than enough tonight."

"I get that we're not exactly the sort of people you'd want to have run into," Sam said slowly, fishing for what to say, "But we—"

"Look, they're werewolves man. Honest to god, we didn't freaking know," Dean exhorted. "I mean most of the ones we've run into are murder machines. I'm not too crazy about the whole being here thing either. But…if he doesn't go apeshit on us, we don't have any reason or way, for that matter, to try to fight back. So relax. Damn. Spare us the lecture, OK? Being stuck here isn't my idea of a good night either, you can be sure."

Sam regarded his brother with an expression of slight surprise. "I have to agree," he nodded, giving Dean a look, as if to say, 'What are you playing at?'

"What, Sammy? I'm just telling this freak like it is." Dean rebuffed in a low voice.

Harry's expression tightened a bit at the snatch of what Dean had said that he'd caught. "I'd…prefer if you didn't use that word," he said slowly.

'What? Freak?" Dean scoffed openly. Sam gave an uncomfortable shrug, his face something between a smile and a grimace. Leave it to Dean, he thought, to get on the nerves of the impossibly powerful people holding them. When they were helpless…

"Yes," Harry replied, his tone shifting from the halting awkwardness at the still-painful word to earnestness as he seemed to be glad to move away from the topic, "And it's in your interest not to inspire unnecessary hostility. I'm not quite sure what to do with you, to be honest, but I will take Remus' opinion into account. Normally Muggles who stumble into the Wizarding World are dealt with by the Minsitry of Magic, have their memories erased, and are sent on their way. You, though… You attacked my friends, a level of threat Muggles don't normally pose, and what's more, if you're really from another universe, well... The situation is unique, and…I just don't know."

Hermione appeared back in the room presently, stepping forwards from the hallway. "Harry? I heard as I came back down the hall. You're not thinking of giving them to the Ministry, are you? I know you're an Auror, but…what would they do with them? Azkaban hardly fits, and with their knowledge of magic and magical creatures, I don't know how the Ministry could erase their memories without erasing their entire lives. If they really are as capable as they claim, nothing short of Azkaban would stop them. Let's hear what Remus has to say first. And besides, you know as well as anyone, the Ministry mucks things up quite a bit."

Sam and Dean exchanged worried looks. They might not know what the strange words meant, but they could tell by Hermione's tone it wasn't good.

"You don't have to remind me," Harry shook his head. "I can barely stand working for them, some days…"

"If you don't mind me asking," Sam said, his tone deliberately light, "What exactly is all that?"

"Azkaban is a prison for the Wizarding community," Hermione supplied. "It's…not at all a pleasant place."

"Just what we need, some lame ass wizard jail," Dean snarked.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Remus stepped forwards, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I suppose I should apologize for my reaction before. It was unbecoming. However, you threatened my son's life, and I would attack you again in an instant to insure his safety."

"So you're the werewolf," Dean murmured.

"Yes, I am a werewolf, as you said," Remus nodded. "I make no pretense to deny that. But what you did—" He took a shuddering breath in before trying again. "You meant to kill my son. Should anything have happened to him, it would have been unforgivable. I'd have killed you myself for that."


	5. Chapter 5

"Far from it," Hermione replied. "However—"

She was cut off by a sharp exclamation from up the hallway as a woman with wildly curly fire-engine red hair came running, screaming.

"Remus! Why didn't someone _bloody well tell me_?! I had to hear it from my SON! Who is sitting back there _afraid _and _alone!" _

"Nymphie—" Remus began, moving to intercept her, but she brushed past him, towards the brothers who sat on the couch. Dean gripped Sam's arm painfully tightly where it lay beside him.

"Dean? Just…breathe, OK?" Sam murmured as the raging witch ran towards them.

She stopped, panting for breath as she pointed a long, thin wand at them.

"Does anyone care to tell me why I shouldn't curse these despicable excuses for humans into drooling idiots?!"

"Tonks—" Hermione said in a placating voice, stepping between the enraged witch and the brothers with her hands raised in a gesture reminiscent of surreneder.

"Don't 'Tonks' me, Granger! These idiots nearly killed my son!" She shouted past Hermione to glare at the brothers, her eyes shifting to red, making the recipients of her glare gawk.

"Please, let's just talk this out," Harry said from the other side of the room where he stood calmly watching the exchange.

Dean was mumbling incoherent code words under his breath at Sam with wide eyes, who shook his head frantically, his expression twisted with something between disbelief and terror.

"Nymphie, Dear," Remus said quietly, taking her by the wrist. "They didn't know any better. Please don't curse them."

"Fine," Tonks huffed as Remus hugged her.

Sam spoke up next. "I—I'm sorry, we—we'd like to apologize again," he said hesitantly, his eyes bulging to the largest, most innocent look physically possible to cross a grown man's face.

"Your _apologies_ are not anywhere near sufficient," Tonks hissed.

"Dude! Honest to god! We didn't know!" Dean exclaimed, his voice tight. Sam exchanged a worried look with him as he shrugged, mouthing so only Sam could hear, "I freaking hate witches," as Tonks visibly flustered.

"And that makes no difference to me!" She rejoined, aiming her wand between Remus and Hermione who stood in front of the brothers.

Hermione and Hary exchanged nervous glances at this outburst.

"Nymphie, please, can we talk about this in a civilized fashion?" Remus tried again.

"I suppose. I—bloody, you're right, Remus. I…." she shook her head, burying her face in her hands as Remus hugged her again. Sam and Dean watched as her hair relaxed from its tightly curled scalding red to a frizzy auburn. "I just—Teddy. He deserves so much better than what these idiots could have done—"

"I know, sweetheart. I know. But he wasn't alone, I was right there. I stopped them before anything could happen."

"Us idiots are right here, too," Dean tried again, earning admonishing looks from Hermione and Harry. "And if we'd know we wouldn't have done that, I swear we wouldn't. Harry was saying—you fought a war, right?"

"Yes, yes we did fight a war, against an evil greater than you could imagine," Tonks huffed.

"OK, so, you know what war's like then," Dean nodded. "Well we've been fighting a war our entire lives too. We—where we're from, we don't seem to be from this universe, see, we kind of got…teleported here by a friend who's an angel, and he screwed up."

"Yeah," Sam cut in, "We—we had no idea that werewolves here can take something to stay in control."

"And where we're from, we have to fight monsters. Monsters that kill people. So if you can try to understand why we saw your weird version of werewolf and thought, yknow, we might oughtta be ready to kill it before it mauls us to pieces."

"My son would never maul anyone," Tonks insisted vehemently.

Just as Remus looked like he was about to say something, she kept speaking. "But I suppose if you really come from somewhere like that…."

"They do," Hermione assured her.

"Fine. Fine. Supposing they really didn't know better," Tonks shook her head, looking at Remus, "What do you suppose we should do with them? If you ask me anything less than Azkaban is too good for them."

"Well," Harry said, "If they really are from another universe, and you're afraid they'd hurt someone here, why don't we send them back?"

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean sniped.

"Oy! Don't be coy with us," Tonks retaliated. "_We_ are the ones in control here, don't forget that."

"Fine!" Dean snapped.

"Dean," Sam said in a warning tone.

"What?!"

"You—all of you," Hermione said, shaking her head in exasperation.

"What is it, Granger? Do you presume to tell me these lowlifes deserve anything better than Dementors? For the likes of these two, I wish Azkaban still employed them!" Tonks snapped.

Her outburst was cut short by the quiet mewl of a child. "Mummy?"

Teddy stood at the entry to the living room, shaking slightly.

"Oh, sweetie, it's alright!" Tonks said quickly, rushing to his side to scoop him up. "I'm so sorry, they will never bother you again, I will make sure of it," she cooed.

He began crying into Tonks' robes prompting her to glare over at the bothers again. "I can't believe you did this to him!"

"Muuuuummy," Teddy whined, climbing from her arms to the floor where he skittered away back towards the hallway.

All eyes turned to Teddy as he began to scream.

"Stop doing that! Stop it stop it! You're making my Mummy upset, you meanies!" He howled. Tonks managed to compose herself as she followed Remus to his side again, scooping him up, murmuring her apologies and quiet comforts into his hair as she hugged him.

It wasn't until Hermione cleared her throat, flailing slightly as the others looked up to notice the glaringly empty couch.

"Teddy, what did you do?!"

….

"What the hell was that?" Dean gasped as he fell back to his knees.

"I dunno. The kid just like, screamed, and…" Sam trailed off.

"I meant that more rhetorically," Dean groaned as he cradled his injured leg.

"Well the question is, are we in the right world," Sam sighed. "Why don't you do the honors?"

"Fine," Dean grumped. "Hey, Cas! Get your feathery ass down here!"

Wing flaps sounded as Castiel materialized in front of them, all questioning stare and mildly confused frown.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey Cas, care to explain what in the hell that was?" Dean snapped.

"What? What's the matter?" He asked, his confused frown deepening.

"Oh, I dunno, how about you sent us to the wrong freaking universe?!" Dean hashed out, his voice rising nearly to a shout as Sam tried and failed to suppress a laugh.

"Oh. What, what happened? And what's wrong with your leg?" Cas asked.

"It's a long freaking story," Dean grouched as Cas laid a hand on his shoulder, healing him. "Can you just take us home? Please?"


End file.
